


Open Your Eyes

by air2earth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, Drowley, Dubious Consent, M/M, canon adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/air2earth/pseuds/air2earth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley midwives Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Your Eyes

“Open your eyes Dean, see what I see, feel what I feel. Let's take a howl at that moon.”

They were in Dean’s room in the bunker. Dean turned his head slightly; Crowley was thrilled with his beautiful black eyes.

“Hello Dean.”

Crowley cocked his head and squinted slightly. This was unknown territory, was this even Dean anymore? He had no idea what to expect, but he did know that he needed Dean up and moving.

“Dean, sit up.” To his surprise and great relief Dean swung his legs over the bed and sat up. After several seconds Crowley added, “Look at me.” 

Dean turned a blank face to Crowley.

Crowley searched Dean’s face for a trace of his signature bravado but found none. Fine, better this way, no arguing. He glanced around the room wondering if there was anything he would need or want. He decided no. He saw a pad of paper and a pen and thought a note for Sam would be a nice touch. Not knowing if it would work, he put them in Dean’s hands.

“Dean.” Once he had his attention Crowley said, “Write this: “Sammy, let me go.”” Dean looked at the paper, after several beats he wrote the words. Crowley took the pad, it looked good. He tore out the sheet, folded it and placed it on the pillow.

“Stand up.” Dean stood up slowly.

“Give me your car keys.” Dean’s quizzical look made him want to scream. Crowley reached into Dean’s front pocket and found the keys. He took them and grabbed Dean’s shoulder and in an instant they were outside the bunker by the Impala. He could have teleported them anywhere, but he wanted to take the car in case Dean would want it later. Crowley put Dean in the passenger seat and drove east. After a bit he went south to a small town. There he summoned a demon to take the car the rest of the way to Tulsa. Crowley left with Dean.

In the hotel Crowley regarded Dean more carefully. He had seen countless souls tortured into demons, but what had happened to Dean was not that. Torture is not what fueled this transformation; it was the Mark of Cain. He thought perhaps Dean’s present condition was a fugue state. Fugues are usually precipitated by a stressful episode; recovery could take a few hours, days, even months. Crowley reckoned dying would qualify as a stressful event.

“Dean go take a shower.” Dean turned to him in confusion.

He sighed epically, “Bollocks. Come here.”

As excited as he was about the potential for Dean’s future with him after the transformation Crowley was quite certain in the short term caring for Dean would drive him to distraction. That said, Crowley had already decided it would be he and he alone to mid-wife Dean through this, he didn't want anything about Dean percolating in the demon gossip mill.

He had Dean sit in a chair and proceeded to unlace and remove his boots. Crowley then took off his jacket and over shirt. The rest of Dean’s clothes were stuck to his body with his own dried blood. Crowley gently pulled Dean’s tee shirt off then he had him stand so he could tug his jeans and underwear down.

Crowley walked Dean to the shower. Dean was oblivious, but Crowley was enjoying himself, perhaps a little too much. He turned on the water checked the temperature and then instructed Dean step by step how to wash himself. He had Dean wash himself carefully and thoroughly. Crowley was grinning broadly. It was a little naughty, but what was there to do? He was only helping.

When he turned off the water he had Dean step out into a towel he was holding ready. As Crowley rubbed him dry he let his hands stray to Dean’s dangly bits. That merited a moan. Apparently Dean was interested in the attention.

Crowley lead Dean to the bed and told him lie down. Dean’s ready compliance was delicious. Crowley sat on the bed beside him appraising his hard-on. Dean watched him looking.

“Shall I help you with that, darling?” Crowley lubed his hand and grasped Dean’s cock stroking firmly and slowly. Dean’s eyes flicked black then back to green as he arched into the stroke.

Crowley slowed a little; this is the part he loves, the anticipation. The Dean he’d come to know was all fierceness and sass. He admired that and feels a little guilty about his current state. Estranged from Sam and a part from Cas Dean was adrift and had been easy to manipulate.

Dean added his hand to Crowley’s thrusting into the grip increasing the speed showing him how he liked it. Crowley was a quick study and gave him what he wanted. Dean’s breath caught as his cum shot across his stomach and chest. Dean’s orgasm was the most normal response he had had to anything since he had died.

“Feel good, Squirrel?” Crowley looked at the baby knight of hell; he was mesmerized. “So pretty.”

“Pretty?”

Crowley laughed, “Yes, you are.” Finally a word from Dean. Crowley covered him with the blanket and instructed him to close his eyes and rest. Dean did as he was told.

“Good boy.”

Crowley poured a scotch, sat in an armchair across the room and dreamed of a wonderful future.

Much later he decided to climb into bed. Dean stirred and threw an arm around him pulling him close. Surprised Crowley lay quiet for a moment and then said Dean’s name.

Dean’s hand moved down to Crowley’s cock, grasping it he said, “Good boy.”

Crowley appreciated that Dean was now capable of two words and he appreciated Dean’s hot, firm grip on his cock. Dean stroked him slowly, dreamily. Crowley squirmed hoping to rouse Dean into greater action. It worked.

Dean pushed him onto his stomach and rubbed his ass. The slow, deliberate movements were maddening, titillating, and slightly unnerving. Crowley felt a knee between his legs, he was spread enough to allow Dean to kneel behind him.

Dean got him on his hands and knees and rocked forward, his cock dragging across Crowley’s ass leaving a slug trail as it went. He spread Crowley’s ass and fit his cock in. When he started moving again Crowley realized he meant to enter him without any prep or lube. “Dean get the lube off the nightstand!”

Dean reached to get it without moving from between Crowley's legs. Crowley peered over his shoulder. Dean had opened the lube and rubbed it on his dick. He looked at Crowley.

“Now my ass Romeo!”

Dean squirted the lube in Crowley’s ass crack and then rubbed up and down, his fingers stroking across the King of Hell’s asshole bringing a moan to his lips.

Crowley decided to move things along and lifted his ass. Dean pushed in, all the way in. It hurt and then it didn’t. Dean quickly found his rhythm, fast and hard the way he liked his hand jobs. He was relentless, pounding Crowley’s ass hard and deep.

Crowley fisted the sheets, holding back moans as Dean hit his prostate with almost every stroke. Dean plowed in deep and came hard. He rolled off unceremoniously.

Crowley growled, “What no kiss?”

Dean looked at him a moment then kissed him full on the lips, soft and sweet.

“Aren’t you full of surprises.”

Crowley finished himself and laid on his back. Sex with a Winchester was a reccurring fantasy. He had often imagined it but never like this.

****  
Dean was watching The Three Stooges. The quiet of the suite was punctuated from time to time with Dean’s laugh. Crowley sat across from him conducting business from his phone. His vantage point gave him a nice view.

They had been in the suite for three days, fucking, drinking, eating junk food and watching junk TV. Dean had been naked the whole time, he had not spoken since he had said “Good boy.” He was docile, obedient and a helluva fuck.

Crowley talked to him a lot but not during the Stooges.

Room service knocked. Crowley met them at the door. He wouldn't let anyone else in the suite. He took the tray over the Dean.

“Your favorite, my sweet, buffalo wings and cheap beer.”

Dean opened a beer and sprawled back on the couch.

“Quite the vision, dear.” Crowley had sat on the coffee table directly in front of Dean. “I just can’t get enough of my pretty boy.”

“Pretty? Fucking gorgeous.”

“He speaks! Quite right, fucking gorgeous.”

“You are sweet piece of ass.” 

Crowley leaned in. Dean’s mouth was open, waiting. The kiss was slow, wet, decadent. When Crowley drew back, he saw a question in Dean’s eyes. “What?”

“I knew you were queer.”

Crowley snorted; many snarky comments flooded his mind, especially in light of Dean’s pulsing cock just an arms length away. Dean was finally talking though, slowly, but by his own volition. Crowley thought simple and direct was probably the best response. “Well, I’d say I’m an opportunist.”

“So what am I?”

“You're a miracle, love. A bloody miracle.”

Dean considered that a moment and smirked. “Yeah, but...if I want you to suck my cock….I’m queer right?”

Dean’s eyes were focused and he seemed more aware of his surroundings. Crowley was hopeful that the fugue was lifting. He had no idea where Dean wanted to go with this question. He needed to be careful here.

“Well darling, maybe you are. Or maybe you’re bi. Or a hedonist. Or an opportunist like me. Labels really aren't important. The cock wants what it wants.” 

Crowley slipped to his knees. Dean fisted his hand in his hair and steered him where he wanted him to go. Crowley’s mouth opened, lips ready for Dean’s cock. He licked and nipped, then took him into his mouth sucking and licking. He dragged his teeth lightly across the head. Dean groaned and bucked with pain and pleasure. Crowley leaned back to look him in the eyes. Dean smiled and pulled him back down. Crowley sucked hard and fast the way Dean liked it.

After Dean came he said to Crowley. “Your turn.”

“On the bed.” Dean went to the bed. He looked back at Crowley allowing him to instruct him. “On your back.” Dean scooted into the center of the bed, laid on his back, pulled his knees up and spread his ass. Crowley had moved to the foot of the bed, undressing as he watched the show. “Fucking gorgeous.”

He crawled between Dean’s legs. “If you give Poppa more room, I’ll eat your ass.”

Dean pulled his knees up to his shoulders, making myself open and vulnerable to Crowley’s ministrations. Crowley put a thumb on each side of Dean’s asshole stretching him open. He leaned in and gave Dean little licks and kisses, it was fucking filthy, Dean loved it. Crowley pulled away to watch Dean as he pushed his fingers in, so sexy. Dean writhed under his touch. 

“Don’t move.” Dean moaned but stilled himself.

“Good.” Crowley pulled his fingers and grabbed Dean again; he leaned in licking and fucking him with his long tongue. Dean pushed his head into the pillow and let the sensations course through his body. Dean drifted, riding waves of pleasure, when Crowley pulled his mouth away Dean flirted with consciousness, for just a moment, then Crowley's cock claimed his ass. Crowley was an intense lover giving Dean everything he wanted, pushing him past any limits he imagined. He tortured Dean holding him at the edge then brought them both to an all-consuming climax. Crowley collapsed on top of him.

*****

“Crowley?”

“Yes, Squirrel?”

“What am I, really?”

Dean was all manner of seriousness, up on one elbow searching his eyes. Crowley realized he could possibly determine Dean’s future with what he answered here.

He knew he could get addicted to Dean; he wanted to claim him for his own pleasure and keep him as his pet for eternity. But the pleasure of being with Dean comes wrapped with fear. 

Dean was unpredictable and dangerous as a human, at some point he will become the knight he was re-born to be, knights are fierce, violent, immortal, Dean will be fucking terrifying. Crowley hoped to harness that fearsomeness for Hell, with Dean by his side the King of Hell would have no peer.

Still it was not an obvious choice.

Crowley steeled himself and said, “You are a miracle, Dean Winchester, a mighty Knight of Hell. You took the Mark from Cain and when Metatron killed you you were transformed into a demon. Your destiny is to be at my side commanding legions of demons for eternity.”

“You said we’d howl at the moon.”

“That too.”

***


End file.
